Given him hope after he thought hope no longer knew his name.
He closed his eyes and let the ambience of the night roll over him, hearing the songs in the guests’ conversations, hearing the rhythm in their laughter and the music in their movements.
Ten, fifteen minutes later—he wasn’t really sure—he opened his eyes and nodded to a silent man waiting to the left of the stage. With hurried grace, the man stepped up onto the stage, positioned a microphone a few feet away from Nick and then scurried off the stage.
Nick’s heart thumped once. Hard into his throat.
He touched his fingertips to the strings of his guitar once more, stroked them and then, with a low clearing of his still-thick throat, tucked the musical instrument’s familiar wooden body under his right arm.
A single beam of light revealed his presence on the stage, a hush falling over those selected by Kylie Sullivan to experience the resort’s soft opening as they realized he was sitting on the stage.
He heard his name whispered by a dozen voices or more.
He heard his blood roar in his ears.
He heard his heart pound in his chest.
He heard the voice of a ghost from a lifetime ago murmur his name in pleasure, heard the goddess ask him to sing, sing for me, lover.
He caressed the strings one more time before lifting his head and gazing out at the quiet crowd. “For McKenzie and Aidan.” He smiled at the two people who had changed him forever. “Who showed me love and gave me life. This, ladies and gentlemen, is ‘Tropical Sin’.”
His fingers found the notes on his guitar, a simple and yet intricate melody, and then the words found his tongue.
A face of an angel with filth on her mind,
I pray to burn in her fire, I pray to die in her arms.
Yet the arms of her lover reach out for more.
Like a sinner I will burn in his fire.
I will die in his fire as she pleads for more.
Like a sinner I will burn in his fire,
I will die in his fire and beg her for life.
Beg her for soul, beg her for heat.
I will die in his fire and beg her for life.
Beg her for soul, beg her for heat.
And the waves sing their song as endless as time,
And the ache in my heart is so sweet.
Like a sinner I will burn in her fire,
I will die in her fire and live in their love.
Live in their love
Until I find you. Again.
About the Author
Lexxie’s not a deviant. She just has a deviant’s imagination and a desire to entertain readers with her words. Add the two together and you get darkly erotic romances with a twist of horror, sci-fi and the paranormal.
When she’s not submerged in the worlds she creates, Lexxie’s life revolves around her family, a husband who thinks she’s insane, a cat determined to rule the house, two yabbies hell-bent on destroying their tank and her daughters, who both utterly captured her heart and changed her life forever.
Contact Lexxie at [email protected], follow her on Twitter http://twitter.com/lexxie_couper or visit her at www.lexxiecouper.com where she occasionally makes a fool of herself on her blog.
Look for these titles by Lexxie Couper
Now Available:
Death, The Vamp and his Brother
The Sun Sword
Triple Dare
Savage Series
Savage Retribution
Savage Transformation
Coming Soon:
Suck and Blow
Dare Me
Fate is a wind that can change at the drop of a heart…
Paradise Found
© 2011 Vivian Arend
Bandicoot Cove, Book 2
Paige has enjoyed every no-strings-attached minute with her two Australian lovers, Trent and Mason. Over the past eleven months, they’ve surfed, hiked…and explored their seemingly limitless sexual chemistry.
Her lovers’ invitation to the opening of a new resort comes at the ideal time, because in a few days she’s returning to Canada. It’ll be a fitting swan song for their easygoing relationship. A chance to fulfill a few fantasies and then escape before her men realize she’s broken the rules by falling in love with them both. Better to take flight than be forced to choose.
Unaware of Paige’s self-imposed deadline, Trent and Mason scheme to get Paige on their yacht for a once-in-a-lifetime voyage with one goal in mind: break the news that they’re ready for something more than casual—and hope she doesn’t run like hell.
It’s a delicate operation that’ll require close attention to which way her emotional winds are blowing. One wrong word, and their paradise-perfect arrangement could be lost in an instant.
Warning: This book starts with the heat turned way up high. Two men entirely focused on one woman’s pleasure. One woman stepping outside the box to please her men. An exotic resort suite featuring an erotic piece of furniture that makes ménage a trois even hotter than usual. Really.
Enjoy the following excerpt for Paradise Found:
Paige stared him in the eye. “Sex in a pan.”
He laughed. “That’s the dessert?”
“The name is a mutation from six in a pan, for the original six layers, but the taste is downright orgasmic, if you make it right.” She ran a finger along the edge of the bowl, scooped up a smear of the chocolate sauce onto her fingertip and offered it to him.
He swallowed hard.
“This isn’t a good time for you to stop what you’re doing, is it?” He forced the words past a throat suddenly tight with need.
She shook her head.
Fuckit. He sucked her finger into his mouth and moaned. The dessert was tasty, but having her finger to suck and tease, to be able to watch her eyes widen and hear her breath catch as he twirled his tongue around the digit? Torture.
He let her pull back, her finger escaping with a pop. He shook off the haze of lust threatening the production of the delicacies. Hold off, caveman.
Instead, he grinned at her. “If they’re individual sex servings, does that make them masturbation pies?”
Paige rolled her eyes. “God. You are not helping me name them.”
“Jerk tarts?”
“Trent!”
“Cream—”
The shot of, appropriately enough—whipped cream—hit him in the mouth, and he sputtered to a stop, eyeing her evilly.
She lowered the piping bag, fists dropping to her hips. “Behave. Let me pop these crusts in the oven, and then we can talk about your fascination with self-pleasure.”
Hmm, now there’s an idea. Not his pleasure, but hers. That was something he could get into. He stepped back complacently, licking his lips. Paige poked him as she passed by to re-wash her hands thoroughly. She returned to the counter, working quickly with the pastry dough. Effortlessly, she formed intricate flowerlike cups, one after another resting on the paper lining the cookie sheets.
He studied her face, loving the way her intent concentration made a tiny furrow appear between her eyes. She was smiling, nodding as she placed another edible art form onto the tray, and he realized this was a form of artistic expression. The beauty she created not only pleased the eyes but the palate and all the rest of his senses. She was a fully sensual creature, and he loved being around her. Enthusiasm and sensuality shone through everything she did.
He couldn’t be any more certain. This thing between them was far more than a physical attraction. He was head-over-fucking-heels with the slim seductress. He would do everything he could to make sure she stayed in his life—even if it meant a few more unusual solutions, like those offered by Mason’s gung-ho, madcap, anything-goes, both-feet-forward attitude.
Hmm, an attitude that was remarkably like Paige’s.
“I bet that’s why you guys get along so well.”
She straightened after placing the second pan in the oven, that little secretive smile teasing the corner of her mou
th again. “What are you talking about? Who?”
“You and Mason. You’re both totally open and game for anything.”
Paige’s heartbeat leaped upward again as he caught her fingers. She’d slipped them under the faucet, adding a shot of soap to clean off the butter clinging to them. He lathered her up, threading his fingers through hers, his touch firm and yet sexual as he touched each digit in turn. Her mouth went absolutely dry.
They didn’t seem to be able to be in the same room without wanting each other. “You’re not such a prude yourself, Trent.”
He crowded closer, his arms caging her, hands rocking over hers again and again. Splashes rose to soak the front of her blouse. He planted kisses along her neckline, and she leaned to the side to allow him to maneuver.
Instead he spun her and locked his lips on hers. Oh Lord, she couldn’t think when he did that thing with his tongue. Taking total control of her mouth as if he were starving and only she could satisfy his hunger. He licked and nibbled and explored—ownership in every touch. The sound of the running water grew faint below the roaring of the blood in her ears. His wet hands slipped onto her back, the fabric sticking to her skin. He held her by the upper arms and slowly separated their bodies, his lips clinging with heat and moisture until the last possible second.
They stared at each other. She knew she was grinning, and the expression on his face—sheer happiness. As if he was exactly where he wanted to be, and life was good.
She’d put that expression in his eyes, at least partially, and for one wild second she nearly blurted out that she loved him.
“Knock knock.”
They both spun toward the door, Trent settling her tightly against his chest. The warmth of his body heated the wet spots on her clothing.
Mason raised a brow as he approached. “Am I interrupting? Fair dinkum, it smells delicious in here.”
“Paige is cooking up a storm.”
Mason walked the length of the room with any hesitation, not stopping until he was pressed firmly against her.
“She always cooks up the most mouth-watering mischief.” He lifted her chin with his fingers and kissed her. A momentary buss on the lips, just enough for her to taste him, tease her senses. “What’s next on the menu? That’s what I want to know.”
He dipped his head again and took his time opening her lips to his caress. A series of small kisses along her jaw, a butterfly soft touch to the corner of her mouth. A tantalizing stroke of his tongue over her lower lip.
A low level of excitement and delight accompanied his teasing touch. She was totally surrounded, boxed in by two solid male torsos. Trent’s erection pressed hard into her right butt cheek, and the longer Mason kissed her, the more his interest rose as well. She tangled her fingers in his hair and held him tight. Twisted her hips slightly, rubbing both of them, slow and deliberate. She might be encircled, but she still had a say in this adventure. It looked as if there was no need to prolong the wait for one of her favorite parts.
Being totally cared for by two men. Four hands bringing her delight, stroking and guiding her pleasure in ways she’d never dreamed possible before getting involved with them.
Paige pulled her lips free and Mason leaned his forehead against hers. Trent’s fingers caressed her hip slowly. They both waited, patiently. Time paused, their three bodies slowly becoming more attuned to each other as their breathing synchronized. Her anticipation rose—there was some specific mischief she had in mind, although it was actually Mason who was the engineer of this afternoon’s coming escapade.
She could hardly wait to see him explain the sex chair that graced the center of their suite. Forget the details of how it got there, she wanted to know everything possible about using the chair itself.
Adolescent fantasies can grow into very adult realities.
Island Idyll
© 2011 Jess Dee
Bandicoot Cove, Book 4
Sienna James has come to Bandicoot Cove to mourn the end of her eight-year relationship with Ben Cowley. The last person she expects to meet is the star of every one of her high school fantasies.
Joshua Lye is not only as appealing as he was in high school, he reveals she was the main feature in his adolescent wet dreams. As kids they never got it together. But they’re adults now, and there’s nothing keeping them apart.
When Ben arrives at the resort determined to win Sienna back, finding another man in her bed kind of throws a spanner in the works. But he isn’t deterred. Rather than admit defeat, he comes up with an alternative plan: Let Sienna sleep with both men—at the same time. Then she can make an informed decision as to which man she wants.
Sienna shouldn’t want to go through with this shockingly sexy plan, but she does. Desperately. Except after the sexual storm passes, she could have it all…or be left holding an empty heart.
Warning: Contains a suggestion beyond risqué, a solution beyond orgasmic, and two men who know how to play dirty. Really, really dirty.
Enjoy the following excerpt for Island Idyll:
“My room is just down there.” She pointed, her voice breathless.
Ah. A beachside bungalow. Figured. Kylie would have saved the best for her best friends. His own suite was situated in the staff quarters. Nothing to sneeze at, but a million miles away from here. “Condoms are in my room,” he told her, wondering why the fuck he didn’t carry one around in his pocket at all times.
New rule. From this second on always carry a condom. Always. No question.
Her lips curved into a sexy grin. “I have some.”
He faltered midstep. “You do?”
“There’s a box in the bathroom. Compliments of the hotel.”
“So, they’re not yours?”
She shook her head.
Unquestionable relief stole through him. They weren’t hers. Which meant she hadn’t come here with the intention of having sex.
“I didn’t think to bring any,” she confessed. Her lips twitched as she looked on ahead, steering him towards her bungalow. “I don’t usually use condoms with my vibrator.”
Josh tripped. Over his own feet. Fuck, she hadn’t even blushed when she’d said that.
Sienna turned to steady him. “You okay?”
Christ, the way her eyes danced, mischief painted all over her delectable face, her freckles standing out… “You said that on purpose,” he accused. “Just to get a reaction out of me.”
Why on earth had he ever thought her eyes were the color of a summer sky? Right now they looked black. Her pupils were enormous, dark spheres rimmed with navy.
“Did I get a reaction?” she asked with the tiniest hint of a smirk.
Jesus, what happened to the naïve kid he’d known in school? “Did you want one?”
She shrugged sweetly. “Only if it promises more satisfaction than my vibrator.”
Enough.
He couldn’t take another second of her teasing. Of her subtle scent that drifted through his nose with hints of cinnamon. Of her creamy white skin, so silky, just begging to be touched. He couldn’t take one more second.
With more speed than he knew he possessed, he backed her up against the trunk of a palm tree, stepped in close—so close she’d have no doubt of the satisfaction his response could provide—and slanted his mouth over hers.
The little minx was ready for him, her lips soft, warm, welcoming and…parted.
Holy fuck! She’d parted her lips for him, inviting his tongue in, leaving the hot, sweet cavern of her mouth open to his exploration.
Her taste hit him with the force of a cannonball, smashing into his chest, winding him. Sweet and tangy, like strawberries and rum. And salty, like the sea air. Innocence, mischief and…sadness, all rolled into one.
He could taste all that on her tongue? Sadness? Why?
Then she whimpered against his lips, and his thoughts scattered. She twined a leg around his, hooking her foot around his ankle, pressing her groin into his and lining her pussy up with his cock.
He hadn’t been kidding earlier when he’d said if she’d touched him, even once, when they were younger, it’d have been game over in a second. Suddenly he was that horny kid all over again. The determined teenager, aroused and desperate for a taste of her, a feel of her, knowing he could never have her.
She slid her hand between their bodies, cupping his dick through his boardies, making him groan savagely into her mouth.
The sound must have motivated her. Less than a second later the same hand was dipping beneath the waistband of his shorts and caressing his bare, aching penis. Here, in the open, standing just on the side of a public pathway, where God knew who could walk past. Anyone.
Anyone. And she was holding his dick in her palm, petting it.
Christ. Fuck. Holy shit.
She was in his arms, pressing her body against him, wrapping her hand around his erection, and damned if he wasn’t on the verge of ending the game right now.
He wrenched his lips from hers, his eyes scrunched shut, pain shooting through his balls.
Fuck, release. He needed release. Needed to come.
“Let go. Quick,” he rasped. Whoa. Close. Way too close. “Say something, anything. Get my mind off fucking you, or it’s not gonna happen.”
Her hand was an instrument of torture, releasing him in tiny, tormenting strokes. Her breath came in shallow gasps, her breasts scraping against his chest with every inhalation.
Not helping. Not one little bit. “Princess, fuck, say something.”
With a long, breathy sigh, she released him, extricating her hand from his pants. “I…I’m getting married.”
He clenched his teeth, willing his orgasm into retreat mode, mulling over her words, trying to make sense of them.
Married.
Married?
Tropical Sin: Bandicoot Cove, Book 2 Page 11